


I Feel The Chemicals Kicking In

by AlastorGrim



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Gellert Grindelwald, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Arranged Marriages, BAMF Newt Scamander, Canon Era, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Feminism Just For Omegas, Identity Porn, Multi, Omega Credence Barebone, Omega Newt Scamander, Omeganism, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Primarily Grindelnewt, Super Villian Gellert Grindelwald, Superhero Newt Scamander, Threats of Rape/Noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-10-13 02:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17479652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlastorGrim/pseuds/AlastorGrim
Summary: New York has always been a sort of central for trouble. When a villain that calls himself the Dark Lord rises to power, he calls for the progression of society to be put to a halt. To combat him, an omegan vigilante named the Black Badger steps up to the plate, causing an uproar. New York now turned into a battleground, both by supers and non, over sticking to the old ways and moving on to bigger things, Newt Scamander finds himself in a bit of a predicament.





	1. Prologue

In a world where a good percentage of people can do things normal people can’t, why should they hide? Why should they bow their heads and kneel to the laws of the ones that don’t have anything special about them at all? Special, indeed.

 

[File One: Subject Å-XX

**Gellert Grindelwald AKA Dark Lord-**  
Nationality: German  
Age: 40  
Primary Gender: Male ♂  
Secondary Gender: Alpha  
Occupation: The Lord of several wealthy estates and the Representative Chairman for the eastern part of Europe—Foreseeable Future.  
Abilities: Healing/Regeneration, Sensory Removal, Flight, Precognition, Telepathy, Telekinesis, Illusions, Pyrokinesis, Teleportation.  
Notes: Mated twice past. M1–Now deceased. M2–Now deceased. Nothing of Note.

File End]

 

[File Two: Subject Ø-YX

**Newton Scamander AKA Black Badger-**  
Nationality: British  
Age: 29  
Primary Gender: Male ♂  
Secondary Gender: Omega  
Occupation: Internship with Professor Albus Dumbledore—Temporary.  
Abilities: Hypersenses, Danger Intuition, Flight, Ecokinesis, Atmokinesis, Empathy, Power Immunity.  
Notes: Currently Unmated. Approach with Caution.

File End]

 

[File Three: Subject Ø-YY

**Credence Barebone AKA N/A-**  
Nationality: American  
Age: 19  
Primary Gender: Male ♂  
Secondary Gender: Omega  
Occupation: Internship with Mary Lou—Foreseeable Future.  
Abilities: Flight, Phasing, Invisibility, Koniokinesis, Shadow Manipulation, Miasmakinesis, Telekinesis, Force Fields.  
Notes: Betrothed to Alpha. Nothing of Note.

File End]

 

[File Four: Subject Å-XY

**Albus Dumbledore AKA The Phoenix-**  
Nationality: British  
Age: 39  
Primary Gender: Male ♂  
Secondary Gender: Alpha  
Occupation: History Professor at Hogwarts University—Foreseeable Future.  
Abilities: Energy Manipulation, Electrical Manipulation, Telepathy, Illusions, Truth, Force Fields.  
Notes: Rumored attempted mating with an Alpha. Approach with Caution.

File End]

 

[File Five: Subject Å-XV

**Percival Graves AKA N/A-**  
Nationality: American  
Age: 34  
Primary Gender: Male ♂  
Secondary Gender: Alpha  
Occupation: Director of Super-Supervision Department—Foreseeable Future.  
Abilities: Unknown  
Notes: Currently Unmated. Nothing of Note.

File End]

 

[File Six: Subject B-YV

**Porpentina Goldstein AKA N/A-**  
Nationality: American  
Age: 30  
Primary Gender: Female ♀  
Secondary Gender: Beta  
Occupation: Subordinate of Director Graves—Foreseeable Future.  
Abilities: Light Manipulation, Levitation.  
Notes: Betrothed to Beta. Nothing of Note.

File End]

 

[File Seven: Subject Ø-XX

**Queenie Goldstein AKA N/A-**  
Nationality: American  
Age: 34  
Primary Gender: Female ♀  
Secondary Gender: Omega  
Occupation: Main Seamstress for Twilfitt & Tattings—Temporary.  
Abilities: Telepathy, Telekinesis.  
Notes: Attempted mating with Omega. Approach with Caution.

File End]

 

[File Eight: Subject Ø-XY

**Jacob Kowalski AKA N/A-**  
Nationality: American  
Age: 36  
Primary Gender: Male ♂  
Secondary Gender: Omega  
Occupation: Owner and Main Baker of Jacob’s Pastries—Temporary.  
Abilities: Unknown.  
Notes: Attempted mating with Omega. Approach with Caution.

File End]

 

But then again, since when was special a good thing?


	2. Chapter One

“C’mon Newt, it’ll be fine.”

“I sincerely doubt your words, ‘Seus,” Newt grumbled. “This is a very bad time and a very bad situation.”

Theseus sighed and straightened Newt’s bowtie with a grimace. “Look, it’s not a done deal, alright? Just go in there, let Mum and Dad do the talking, and try to at least make some eye contact. If you don’t like him, then you don’t marry him! Mum isn’t about to make you marry someone you don’t want to.”

Hazel eyes flitted away from Theseus and zeroed in on the ground. “That’s not really what I’m worried about.”

The Scamander family had moved from England to the States for a fresh start about ten years ago. They’d settled in nicely, save for the fact that it became very hard to express their thoughts in a country that didn’t view them as important. Or, they didn’t view _Newt’s_ thoughts important. America was very different from England in that respect. So even though Newt could say no to this suitor and his parents would listen, that didn’t mean society wouldn’t eventually be able to push them into making him get married anyway.

Most American Omegas were married off by the age of eighteen, if not earlier. And here Newt was, twenty seven and still flying solo. Not that he really wanted a mate—he didn’t. Unless he loved them, he didn’t see the point in marrying someone who was just going to get in his way in the long run, especially if it was an American Alpha, who would try to tie him down.

There was also the teeny tiny problem of Newt needing his privacy to remain as the figurehead Black Badger. He doubted any Alpha would be very lenient about that particular clause.

Theseus could never know. _Never_.

It wasn’t Newt’s fault though! He couldn’t help it; he saw someone in need of help and he just _had_ to. And when the Dark Lord rose to power, well, Newt couldn’t very well just sit back and let him have his way, now could he?The job was dangerous, but exciting, and landed him in the infirmary more often than not. Theseus would kill him if he ever found out what Newt was actually doing on his ‘animal rescue missions’. Well, he did those too, just a lot less since becoming Black Badger.

Newt was snapped out of his reverie by Theseus tugged his bowtie into place and pushing him towards the parlor door. “You’ll be fine, Newt. Now go on!”

Tugging at his collar and feeling stuffy, Newt took a deep breath and entered the parlor. His father looked up and smiled. “Ah, there he is! Man of the hour. About time.” He nodded to the man sat beside him. “Newt, this is Lord Grindelwald.”

He glanced up from the floor to run his eyes over the man sitting in the seat next to his father. He was tall and broad shouldered, ice blond hair slicked back atop his head, the sides shaved short. He had pale skin, scarred hands, and heterochromatic eyes—one blue and one gold—that glinted as soon as they saw him. Newt hastily looked back at the floor. “Nice to meet you, Lord Grindelwald.”

“Please,” Grindelwald rumbled, his voice low and thick with his accent. “Call me Gellert.” He smiled at Newt politely.

“Of course,” Newt murmured as he took his seat beside his mother with an inclination of his head. Newt wouldn’t be calling him that, of course, if only to stave off any sort of illusions closeness between them. He could already tell this match was failed from the start. Lord Grindelwald seemed like the kind of man who worshipped the old ways as gospel.

“Newton here is interning under Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts,” His mother began proudly, and Newt sunk further into his seat.

He watched through his fringe as Grindelwald tensed up at the mention of Newt’s professor, and his grip on his tumbler tightened until his knuckles were white. When he turned to Newt, it was with that same polite smile from earlier. A fantastic liar. “Is that so? How...ambitious of you.”

Newt stiffened here. He had been correct about Grindelwald’s views then. He looked up with a stern expression as he straightened his posture. “I don’t think so,” Newt stated firmly as he met Grindelwald’s eyes bravely. He hesitated when his mother placed a warning hand on his shoulder, but shrunk only marginally. “Ambition is not my forte, Lord Grindelwald.”

The alpha tipped his head almost curiously, an amused smirk on his lips. “No? Then pray tell, what is?”

Eyes back on the floor, the perfect picture of demure, Newt dipped his head. “I have an affinity for animals, sir. I would like to work with them, but I need prior experience to get the job I would like. Professor Dumbledore kindly took me in and gave me the chance to get that experience so I could achieve my goal.”

“Your goal of a job?” Grindelwald inquired. When Newt nodded, he hummed and leaned back. “Yes. Jobs can be so hard to come by these days. For an omega, at least.” He drawled with a falsely pitying look.

“Yes, hard to come by.” Newt’s mother bit out. Both omegas bristled at the implications, but Newt was much more subtle about it.

“Ah, yes,” His father cut in awkwardly before anything more could be said. “Well, let’s move on, shall we? Lord Grindelwald, I believe you mentioned something about being the chairman for the eastern European board? Please, elaborate.” He insisted as he downed his tumbler of whiskey.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details, Mr. Scamander. The whims of the capitals can be more than a bit dull, if I am honest with you. But we’ve recently been propositioned by France to open up another port in Maine. I did not have much of a say in the matter, mind you, but the council was in uproar. This recent ban on alcohol has them stretched thin as it is, what with all the speakeasies cropping up everywhere with no one able to shut them down. And then France wants to import even _more_ wine? A scandal if there ever was one, according to your President Picquery.”

Grindelwald and Lord Scamander fell into talk of politics for a while, and it gave Newt time to compose himself. He had to keep calm until the meeting was over, and then he could tell his parents the verdict and be done with it. But until then, Newt had to control his temper.

When the conversation turned back to the matter at hand, Newt learned (through his father’s questions, not his own) that Lord Grindelwald enjoyed travelling, swimming, reading, bourbon, large dogs, and ancient items lost to time. All of which sounded beyond interesting to Newt, but he withheld his inquiries. If any of it was true, then he would, but as of now Newt just couldn’t match the man to the actions, especially as Grindelwald didn’t seem the type to swim.

He and Grindelwald didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting. At the very end, they exchanged pleasantries, in which they both expressed a customary desire to see one another again some other time, and then he was led into the foyer.

Grindelwald spun on heel before the door to take Newt by the wrist. He pressed his lips to slack knuckles with a very odd smirk. “ _Ich hof e, dich zu brechen, meine schöne Flamme._ ” He released a bewildered Newt’s hand with a grin and whirled to make a dramatic exit. “Until we meet again!”

Once the door was closed, Newt stood with his arm out for a while longer, dumbstruck, before his mum came over and curled her hand around his elbow and led him into her side. His father pulled out a pipe and lit it anxiously. “Well?”

Newt blinked and stared at his hand. “I don’t like him.” He declared, brow furrowed.

His mother deflated with a relieved sigh. “Oh thank God.”

“Oh well,” His father grumbled, disgruntled at the loss of such wealth, but not willing to push it. “We tried.”

 

•Ω•

 

When Newt retreated to his room that night, he found Theseus waiting on his bed. His brother bounced his knee in impatience as Newt gave him an exasperated look. “Well, how’d it go?”

“You can’t just commandeering my bedroom, you know. I need my privacy, ‘Seus.” Newt chided by way of response as he made his way to his closet to toss his waistcoat inside. He much prefered his blue cotton one, but formal meetings didn’t quite allow for such casualties.

“How’d it go?” Theseus demanded again, unwavering. He’d puffed up at Newt’s jab, as if he’d sensed that Newt had avoided answering on purpose and he was fully ready to go into protective-big-brother mode at any time.

“It was fine,” Newt reassured his brother as he yanked apart the carefully done knot of his bowtie. “About as well as you’d expect. I doubt there will be another meeting, however.”

“There won’t be another meeting because you don’t like him like that or there won’t be another meeting because he’s a complete prat?” Theseus hedged.

“A bit of both, really. Toss me my nightshirt, will you? Yes, thank you.” Theseus turned his head away while Newt changed. He’d often chided his little brother on his shamelessness, but Newt never listened. “He’s one of those types. The ones that think omegas are all sex toys meant for making babies and then taking care of said babies.” Newt scoffed.

Theseus grinned. “Oh I bet that set Mum right off, didn’t it? I’d have loved to see that.”

With a hum, Newt plopped down on his bed beside his brother and nudged him away with his foot. “She handled herself with grace, though we did have to take turns verbally holding the other one back.”

“Creepy arseholes tend to incite that in her.” Theseus affirmed.

“You have no idea. When I told her I didn’t like him, she about jumped for joy. Dad was disappointed, of course, but he wasn’t going to say that.” Newt paused and furrowed his brow. “It was odd though. Just before Lord Grindelwald left, he said something—” He was cut off Theseus abruptly straightening up.

“What’d he say? Was it rude? Did he insult you?”

“I don’t know what he said, because he said it in German. If you’d let me finish my sentences, ‘Seus, I’d have told you that.”

Theseus ducked his head with a bashful grin. “Sorry. But if it was in another language, it was probably something that wouldn’t have been taken kindly had it been said in English, don’t you think? Which means it was most likely something insulting. So I can punch him in the face.”

Newt dropped his face into his hands. “Please don’t.”

“Too late, my mind is made up, no getting out of it.” He chirped in reply as he stood up and made his way over to the door. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, eyes wide in remembrance. “Oh, I almost forgot. There’s a rally tomorrow isn’t there? I know you said Goldstein’s going to be there, but did you want to go?” He asked.

“That was the plan, Seus.” Newt tipped his head with a small smile at his brother.

“Want me to drive you?”

“That’d be lovely. You’re the best, Theseus.”

“I know.”

His brother left him with a wink and shut the light off behind him. Newt laughed softly under his breath and shook his head fondly. Theseus may have been the older one, but sometimes Newt felt like he had to mother him too much. He fully intended to meet up with Jacob and Queenie at the rally tomorrow, but he didn’t know if he’d have to cancel. After all, anything to do with Omegan Rights was automatically a target for the Dark Lord. Newt would pack his suit just in case he had to step in whilst there.

His suit was lightweight, so it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle to bring in his satchel. It was his mask that was the problem. How he was going to fit the muzzle into his bag without getting caught was a problem he had yet to solve. Fitting the mask into any bag was awkward and precarious, as it always had a risk of falling out and exposing his identity as New York’s one and only Omegan vigilante.

The only person who knew of his secret identity was Queenie, and that was only because she had accidentally peeked into his mind at the wrong moment. She’d helped him design his outfit and everything, but even she couldn’t solve the problem of the mask.

But Newt didn’t have to worry about any of that until tomorrow. The police radio tucked under his bed was quiet, and he drifted off to sleep to the sound of empty static.


	3. Chapter Two

“You packed water?”

“Yes, Theseus,” Newt sighed as he clambered out of the car near Central Park. “I packed water. And everything else I could possibly need in the face of any unlikely crisis, before you ask. Now either get out and come with me, or go home.” Newt huffed.

Theseus scrunched up his nose at the throng of people beginning to trail into Central Park and sighed. “See you later, little one. Don’t get into trouble.”

“I make no promises,” Newt called as he left Theseus to himself to make his way over to Queenie and Jacob, who were waving at him.

An indignant squawk was all a reply Newt needed, and he smiled at the ground as he sidled up next to Jacob. Queenie had a bright blue sash tied across her waist and over her shoulder, the pink summer dress beneath it complimented wonderfully by it. Jacob was in his normal wear, but he wore his sash around his wrist and up his forearm, secured with a bow on the inside of his elbow.

“Hey Newt,” He greeted cheerfully as he handed the redhead a brown paper bag. “I brought snacks. I closed down early today, so they should still be warm.” Jacob hummed and stuck his thumbs in his pockets.

Newt nosed the bag open and smiled at the pastries inside, the lovely scent of sugar and honey heaven to his nose. He had an enormous sweet tooth, and Jacob often brought him bits and bobs from his bakery to satisfy Newt’s constant craving for sugary goods. Today Jacob had blessed him with a plethora of coffee cakes, which Newt had grown to love ever since visiting Jacob’s bakery for the first time when they first moved to the States. Coffee was...odd, but not unpleasant.

“Thank you, Jacob. You’re a wonderful friend.” Newt said earnestly as he fished a cake out of the bag and pushed half of it into his mouth.

Queenie laughed as Jacob blushed, and grabbed his hand with a squeeze. “The best of the best.” She turned her head abruptly, eyes wide. “Oh, it’s starting! C’mon guys, we don’t want to miss it!”

Newt hurried after her as she dragged Jacob down and into the main clearing of the park, just past the zoo, where the ORA meeting was being held. The turnout was great, with just over a hundred omegas in attendance, along with several betas and even one or two alphas that had come to listen to the ORA speak and raise money for the cause. He turned to Queenie when she pulled them to a stop near the back of the crowd. “Is Tina coming? You said you asked her if she would join us.”

“Teeny couldn’t make it,” Queenie answered. She averted her eyes and bit her lip in a way that told Newt that there was more at play than ‘she couldn’t make it’, but he decided not to push. He owed Queenie that courtesy, at least. Her eyes sharpened then, and she glanced at Newt with a furrow to her brow. “Do you think he’ll show up?” She mumbled, low, where Jacob couldn’t hear.

“It’s extremely likely,” Newt conceded, his grip on his bag now white. “But I came prepared either way.”

“If he does show up, please be careful, Newt. I know you feel strongly about this, but I don’t think it’s worth your life.” She whispered back with a pained look.

They had this talk every time Queenie knew she could get away with it. She never passed up on the chance to scold Newt for his lifestyle choices, and even though Newt would never criticize her for it, she was hardly one to talk as she and Jacob were the most well-known homosexual couple in the whole city. It was very, very rare to see two omegas court, but as Queenie’s parents were dead, and Jacob had reached his majority without getting married, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Newt perked up as the stage they had set up in the clearing came alive with a crackle of static. Margaret Fisher, the head of the ORA, now stood in the center of the stage in front of the microphone stand. She tapped it a few times to ensure that she could be heard, and gave them all a brilliant smile.

“Welcome, everyone, to the first official rally for the ORA—Omegan Rights Association, for anyone that’s new.” She began, her voice loud and grainy through the speaker. “Now today is all about information! You see, not a lot of people know what we do here at the ORA, and we think that it’s important to get the word out so we can help more omegas reach their full potential. The ORA is here to make sure omegas have a safe space to retreat to, as well as argue their cases with a belligerent and unrelenting society that refuses to let them rise above their supposed ‘place’ in the world. We are here today to tell you that you, an omega, are not below an alpha. That you, a beta, are not below an alpha. And that you, an alpha, do not have to shoulder the world’s burdens on your own."

A cheer rose up from the crowd at these words, omegas and betas alike, and even one of the alphas near the front looked almost relieved, even if he wasn’t cheering with the rest. Newt smiled proudly, happy to a part of something so great. The he stiffened, the back of his neck prickling as the breeze shifted. Newt gripped his bag tightly. He was here. Margaret chuckled as the crowd quieted back down.

“Yes, the ORA is here to help usher forward a new era. An era of equality, where secondary sexes will be seen as obsolete as primaries. That era is soon approaching, my friends! With your help, omegas, betas, and alphas may stand on the same platform of society within what very well may be the next decade.” Margaret continued over the shouts of approval.

“I’m afraid your prediction will prove to be off by several more centuries, Mrs. Fisher.” A deep voice boomed from above the clearing.

A plethora of shocked eyes turned up to see a horribly familiar figure perched above the assembly in mid-air. Decked in an elaborate black and gold outfit, a hood pulled over his face to shield all but a grinning mouth from view, was the Dark Lord. He tipped his head mockingly at the crowd as he extended a hand, a bright blue flame erupting into being in the palm of his gloved hand. “Not that I fault you for your delusions. It must be so infuriating, to be made to _**kneel**_.”

The alpha speak, accompanied by the sudden rush of pheromones permeating the air, drove the crowd to their knees, save for the one or two alphas in the crowd. With a chuckle, the Dark Lord swooped lower and chucked the ball of azure flame at the stage. Margaret, unable to lift herself off her knees, could only stare in horror as the shot hurtled toward her at incredible speed. She flinched and shut her eyes to brace for the pain of being burned alive, only to hear a loud burst and creaking noise. Two thick tree roots had burst out of the ground to form an X over her body and shield her from the blast. The fire crashed into them and they exploded into flames, before shrivelling back into the ground.

The Dark Lord’s smug look was gone. In its place was furious sneer. “Well, well, well. Looks like your champion has deigned to join us.”

His stare was directed across the the way, where another figure stood, a familiar black and white mask over their face. A short, silvery blue cape flowed behind them like a banner, a black spandex shirt that stretched to their wrists displaying a brilliant silver **Ω** on the chest. A few tufts of rosy curls could be seen above the mask, but the rest was covered completely, a black cloth wrapped around the bottom half of their face.

The crowd started up again in pleased gasps and exuberant cries.

“Is that?”

“It is! It’s him!”

“Black Badger! The omegan super!”

“I’ve never seen him up close.”

“Wow! How cool is that? I mean, it’s scary, obviously, but how cool!”

The Dark Lord, now very irritated that the attention was stolen from him, conjured up another fireball and threw it at the other super, who adaptly dodged. “Well, little Badger? Come to save the day again? You should be _**bowing**_ with the rest of them.”

The crowd stiffened and automatically lurched into a humiliating pose of being prostrated at the Dark Lord’s feet. Black Badger was unmoved, a fierce look in his eyes. It was well-known that for some reason Black Badger could resist alpha orders—though if he could not, he would not have gotten very far as a vigilante. No, this little stunt was just to rile the other super up into a righteous anger over the dignity of his people. It worked.

With a spark of defiance in his eyes, Black Badger turned in mid-air and curled his hands over where his mouth would be, then let out a loud, animalistic cry. It was echoed almost immediately from the zoo in the center of the park, and several large predators came prowling out. Rhinos, hyenas, hippos, alligators, tigers, and lions stalked across the park until they flanked the ground below Black Badger like hulking, furry bodyguards. One lion, the largest, opened its maw and let out a loud, warning roar, its amber eyes cutting into the Dark Lord.

He scoffed. “Am I supposed to be impressed?” He crossed his arms and smirked, only to hurriedly dodge out of the way of a tree root lurching up out of the ground and trying to impale him. Or, he had assumed it was. Now he noticed it was just enough off in its aim that had he allowed it to continue, it would’ve merely grazed his cheek. He growled. “Clever. Still, not clever enough.”

Hazel eyes widened as the Dark Lord proceeded to rip the tip of the root off and light it on fire, then sling it at Black Badger’s face. He dodged easily, but the flaming root crashed into the ground only a little ways from the crowd. Several people screamed, but couldn’t even move away, kept in their positions by the Dark Lord’s presence. Black Badger’s eyes roved over the crowd for a moment, indecisive, before he dove down abruptly from the sky towards the only person that was similarly unaffected. The lions and rhinos led a stampede forward to cover him while he approached the alpha in the crowd. The woman, though her complexion was dark, was pale, and her lips were pursed in anger. She blinked, startled, when the super swooped down to float in front of her. He tugged the black fabric covering his mouth away, and she caught a glimpse of freckles over his cheeks before he spoke.

“Get everyone away. They can’t run while he’s here, find someone with force fields and get the rest to safety. I’ll take care of _him_.” Black Badger murmured to her.

Unlike most alphas when given orders, this one did not snarl or puff up at being given orders by an omega. Instead her gaze narrowed and she nodded, something like respect in her eyes. “I’ll handle it.” With that she turned in an elegant sweep of blonde hair and raised her hands, a large purple dome cresting over the crowd as she walked between the rows barking orders. “ _ **Get up**_! Run! Get out of firing range! I’ll cover you.”

Black Badger dipped his head in satisfaction as he pulled his cover back up and soared back up to face the other super. The lions and rhinos had done their job well, though half of the male’s mane had been singed off, and one of the rhinos was limping. He winced in sympathy and sent a quiet thanks to them as they fell back.

The Dark Lord was panting now, obviously winded. He sneered at the Badger. “You’ll talk to a random pedestrian and not me? You wound me, little Badger.” A gloved hand flew to his chest dramatically, and he smirked as he raised the other hand. “But I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat anyhow. Other arrangements and such, you understand, I imagine.”

With that, a large, stone gollum erupted into being right behind him, before it flickered away. It drew Black Badger’s eyes away from the Dark Lord for only a moment, but a moment was all he’d needed. He darted backwards and slung an arm through the air, one of the new Fords by the side of the road soon to follow. He grinned as it slammed into Black Badger and sent him down with a cry in a tangled heap of black-clothed limbs, silvery cape comically draped over his face. The Ford crashed down with him and trapped him beneath it, and the Dark Lord almost felt bad. Almost.

He swooped away and out of sight. Just to entice more drama, he caught a fleeing omega in the corner of his eye, and proceeded to send a fireball at them. With the Badger trapped beneath a Ford and the traitor alpha distracted with the omegas, the poor thing never stood a chance.

The Dark Lord disappeared with a cackle as the omegan woman burst into flames with a scream of agony. Shrieks of renewed panic spewed from all sides. The horrified expression on the crowd’s faces were priceless.

‘ _Look,_ ’ He thought viciously, ‘ _Look what your posturing has wrought you. Take heed, little ones. Keep this up and this death will not be the last_.’

Black Badger writhed and wriggled beneath the crushing weight of the car, the pain of more than one broken bone nothing compared to the grating screams of the poor woman the Dark Lord had set on fire. With a shout, he wrenched an arm free and struck it out towards the sky, which abruptly darkened and began to spill over. The immediate onslaught of rain crashed over the crowd and brought forward gasps of surprise, but more importantly, it doused the raging azure flames devouring the poor woman.

He let out a wheeze as one of the hippos knocked the car off of him, but grit his teeth and shot forward on foot to reach the omega covered in ash. She was still letting out heart-stopping screeches, broken sobs, and her entire body was blistered and covered in the ash of her clothes.

His stomach dropped.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered as he picked her up as gently as he could and took to the sky once more.

The dark skinned blonde woman from earlier came running over, eyes wide and wild. “Wait! Where are you taking her?”

The super paused just long enough to drop back down and answer, “The hospital.” Before he flew off again as quickly as he could.

The alpha watched him go with a helpless look, fists clenched. She set her jaw and let out an angry snort. “She was outside my shield. She was outside my shield. _Why_ was she outside of my shield?”

“President Picquery,” A voice crackled in her ear. “You’re needed at the media station. There’s been another attack.”

She pressed the earpiece button and snarled. “I know, Abernathy. I was standing in the middle of it.”

 

•Ω•

 

“You’re not going to another one!”

Newt rolled his eyes as the nurse checked his bandages. “Theseus, you’re being ridiculous.”

Theseus spluttered indignantly, face almost as red as his hair. “I am not! You have _five broken bones_ , Artemis! You’re not going to another rally, especially not if these idiotic supers insist on duking it out at them,” He ranted fiercely as he paced around the foot of Newt’s hospital bed. “These rallies are political hunting grounds anyway. You shouldn’t be at them.”

“It could be worse,” Newt pointed out, careful not wince as the nurse prodded at particularly sore spot on his arm.

“Yes, it could be. You could be over in the intensive care unit like that poor omega that was set on bloody fire!” Theseus roared, his protective brother syndrome overlapping all of his other facilities.

“How is she? Is she going to be alright?” Newt blurted abruptly, his face now anxious.

Newt’s worry dampened Theseus’s fury enough that he slumped. He ran a hand through his curls with a sigh. “I didn’t hear all the details, but I heard the doctors say that they’ll have to run more tests. They said that as long as her wounds don’t get infected, she’ll be physically fine in a few months, though she won’t get her eyes back. I’m not surprised, considering they’d been boiled inside her sockets.” Theseus huffed in frustration and shook his head. “Honestly, Newt, I don’t think you should go to the next one.”

Calloused fingers twiddled with the thin sheets as Newt averted his eyes. “I can’t let this scare me, Theseus. I can’t. I have to keep doing what I can to support the ORA. I won’t give up on something I believe in so easily.”

Theseus let out a breath and clenched his fists. “I know you won’t,” He grumbled irritably. “But for God’s sake, Newt, don’t die. And try not to break anything else.”

“I make no—”

“ _Newt_ ,” He growled roughly, eyes pleading. “Promise me. Promise me that you’ll at least feel out the next one before deciding to go. If it’s too tense, don’t go.”

“...I promise,” Newt grumbled after a moment, obviously not happy about it.

“Thank you.” Theseus relaxed and plopped himself down into one of the plastic chairs.

The door burst open not long after, and Queenie came flying in. She tackled Newt into a hug with a wail of, “Oh, honey, we’re so glad you’re okay!”

Jacob came trailing in after her, much more calmly, but his face was etched with worry as well. He hooked an arm around Queenie’s waist and gently hefted her off Newt, who had begun to make strained, dying animal noises. “Let him breathe, Queens.”

Queenie let go of Newt with a huff, but grabbed his face a stared into his eyes with a harsh glare afterwards. “We are going to have _words_ later, Newton Scamander, just you wait.”

Newt quailed back into his pillows, already thoroughly chastised in a way that Theseus’s rants couldn’t accomplish. The nurse eyed Queenie and Jacob with disdain, and stalked out of the room with a scoff. Newt’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth twisted. “You forgot your clipboard, Miss!”

The nurse paused just outside the room, flushed a dark crimson, and hurried back in to snatch it up and stomp back out. Jacob scoffed and Queenie rolled her eyes.

“Her bedside manner could use some work.” Theseus mumbled, and they all agreed.

“Hey, what’s that?” Jacob piped up. “On the radio. Newt, turn it up, would you?” He pulled Queenie until they’d taken the next two chairs next to Theseus, and Newt obliged in raising the volume.

“...sident Picquery will now speak on the attack that happened this morning at an ORA meeting in central park. Madame President, was it true you were in attendance to said rally?”

“Yes, I was. I had been passing by that morning undercover, as I didn’t want to be swarmed, and I saw the meeting and decided to investigate. It was a peaceful rally, one to relay information, and in the middle of Mrs. Fisher speech, the super known as the Dark Lord appeared to shut the meeting down. I recognize that many alphas are getting restless about the new aged ideas on omegan rights, but one does not need to cause chaos to protest. Had the super known as Black Badger not appeared, several omegas and even betas in the crowd, including Mrs. Fisher, would be dead or injured.”

“Madame President! Is it true that he spoke with you?”

“He did speak with me, but it was only to request my help in getting the bystanders in the crowd to safety. Back to the matter at hand—this Dark Lord character has commited what can be seen as an act of terrorism. Political views aside, I cannot stand for senseless violence where there is no cause for it. The Dark Lord has threatened our omegan population long enough.”

“That he has,” Queenie murmured darkly. She caught Newt’s eye and they shared a low look. “That he has.”


	4. Chapter Three

Newt was released from the hospital much later than he would have liked, and yet much too early for Theseus’ tastes. He was supposed to be kept on bed rest for the next couple of weeks, but Newt could tell his brother would rather strap him down to one and never let him leave again, lest he hurt himself. There were healing crystals, of course, and people he could go to that would fix him up, for a price. But that would require Theseus taking out the money for him, and his brother was a bit too sour at Newt’s recent escapades to take that request well. In his eyes, the longer Newt was injured, the longer it would take for him to be injured _again_.

But Theseus was out today, which meant that Newt was sneaking off to his ‘internship’. Albus Dumbledore, one of Newt’s old Professors, had been kind enough to indulge Newt’s aspirations of starting his own business. A veterinary clinic sat in the shadows of Maine, all sorts of creatures housed safely within its walls. Of course, it was in Dumbledore’s name, and Newt would never be acknowledged as the true owner—always just the ‘assistant’—but Newt was working to change that.

...However slow the progress.

Arm in a sling, chest a dull ache, Newt escaped from the manor while Theseus was off at work and went to the clinic himself. Bunty came over to feed them when Newt wasn’t available, but he felt terrible being away from his creatures so long.

As soon as he unlocked the doors, Niff, a black border collie with a penchant for shiny things, came bounding up towards him. He had an odd blond patch around his muzzle, and two socks of golden fur on both back paws. Riding up on his hind legs, Niff planted his paws on Newt’s bandaged chest and began to sniff his with ecstatic vigor.

Newt chuckled and ruffled his good hand through Niff’s fur, rubbing appreciatively at his ears. “Hello to you too. I’d ask how everyone has been, but you don’t pay much attention to them, do you?” He pushed Niff off his chest with a slight wince and dug a treat out of his pocket. “There you are.”

Catching the treat with his jaws, Niff crunched down on it and scurried away, his attention once more drawn back to his pups.

Newt turned the clinic sign from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’, then turned and walked off towards the desk. Poised atop it, eyes intent on the hall towards the rest of the clinic, was Pickett. Pickett was an abnormally small ferret that Newt had rescued from an abusive lab a few years back. They had been performing experiments on animals, trying to see if they could hold the same supernatural powers as humans did. Pickett had a discoloration to his coat that made it a muddy shade of green, and a higher sentience than the rest of his kind.

It also made him a good look-out.

“Hey Pick. Quiet night?” Newt murmured, so as not to startle him. He grunted when Pickett’s ears flew up and he turned and abruptly launched himself at Newt. Pickett made several happy chitters and chirps as he curled around Newt’s shoulders affectionately.

“Ha, I missed you too. Was everything alright while I was gone? I didn’t mean to miss so many days.”

Pickett gave him a glare, then swiveled his head towards the door to the reptile room. He had dug his claws into Newt’s shirt, so it was clear that he didn’t intend to leave the man’s shoulders anytime soon.

The lab Newt had rescued Pickett from had a few other inhabitants (still alive) that Newt had taken in as well. He had argued adamantly for the termination of all animal experimentation after the fact, but was brushed off by the council. It was one of the reasons Dumbledore had taken notice of him. Now Newt had his clinic, and any animals he found being abused could have somewhere safe to go.

He headed towards the reptile room with a frown, knowing that one of abused animals he’d rescued had been sick before he’d, erm, taken his leave. Pushing open the door, he hurried over to Alice’s habitat and peeked in. Newt frowned.

There was Tweedle, Mackery, Terrant, and McTwisp, but Alice was nowhere to be seen amongst the huddle of cool iridescent feathers and scales. Newt pulled back from the glass with pursed lips, only to turn and find a cloth basket set on the table next to the habitat, a note from Bunty stuck to its side.

‘ _Alice had twins!!! They’re old enough for solids, but Mirana prefers hers mushed. Get well soon!  
-Bunty_’

Newt smiled fondly at the note, then ducked his head into the basket to see two little baby occamies tucked against Alice’s side. He cooed at the softly, chest warm. “Mirana and Iracebeth, hm? Fitting. Congratulations, Alice.” He whispered.

Pickett dug his claws into Newt’s shoulders just as the door to the clinic rang. There was a loud bang, and Newt shot up and bolted towards the foyer, his instincts honed to jump as quickly as possible to the rescue. He ran into the foyer and skidded to a stop behind the desk. “Hello? Is everything—?”

He cut himself off and felt all the blood drain from his face. A man, covered in blood with a large, broken body in his arms stumbled over to the desk. Piercing blue eyes cut up into Newt’s, widened for a moment, then narrowed. “Are you the owner of this place?”

Newt’s spine locked up, torn between getting that poor animal on an operating table and shielding his secrets. “I’m an assistant, but I’m qualified for surgery. What’s happened?”

“He got hit,” He hefted the dog onto the desktop, blood smeared beneath it, but Newt couldn’t bring himself to care. “Car. They weren’t looking—it was a hit and run.” He growled, obviously angry.

“Right. Hand him to me, I’ll take him back.” Newt demanded, rolling up his sleeves.

The man gave him a shrewd look. “Are you sure that you’re certified to perform aid on an animal as large as this?”

“I’ve operated on lions before, Mister.” Newt replied, though his tone had gone dry. “I’m sure I can handle this, however I have less of a chance of saving your dog the longer you sit here asking me pointless questions.”

Those cutting blue eyes widened, and he held up his hands in surrender. Newt snuffed irritably and hiked up the injured dog with as much gentleness as he possibly could to take it to the back room. It whined softly at him, and Newt felt his heart go out to the poor thing. He hip checked the door to the operating room open and laid the dog carefully onto the table. He clicked on lights and ran a bowl of warm water to dunk a cloth in. He was cleaning off the blood when the door opened again.

“Sir, you can’t be back here,” He called without looking up. Pickett still hadn’t left his shoulders, but Newt had long since learned how to work around the ferret.

“It’s my dog, I have a right to be here for him.” The man snarked stubbornly, but he trained worried eyes on the heaving chest of his pet.

Newt’s stern expression softened, and he sighed. He squeezed the stained rag back into the bowl, the silver coat of a Weimaraner bared to the world, a bit of metal buried between his ribs. “Stand in the corner. Don’t move or make too much noise—if you excite him and he moves, it could exacerbate his wounds.”

The man shuffled over to the corner and stayed relatively still, his eyes locked onto Newt with unsettling intensity. Newt ignored him and yanked out his tools with numb precision. He was good in high pressure situations like this, so his hands didn’t shake, but having an audience definitely wasn’t helping matters. Pickett pawed into his neck comfortingly as he slid the metal out and swiped away debris with antiseptic. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was wide, which explained the amount of blood.

There was a broken rib and back leg that Newt would have to set, but other than that the dog just seemed bruised and stunned. Weimaraners were a hardy breed. 

The dog let out a constant, low whine in the back of his throat as Newt worked to stitch up the cut. He growled weakly when Newt touched his leg, and Newt gave him an apologetic look before gripping both sides of the break and cocking the angle back into place. The dog yowled, jaws snapping, and he got Newt on the arm before he could pull away.

Newt winced, but ignored the pain for now. He’d been bitten by larger, more venomous creatures; he would be fine. 

Moving to the rib, he set it quickly and stepped back before he could be nipped again, then spun around for the numbing tablets and bandages. The tablets were flavored with various meats, so it wasn’t difficult to get the pup to eat it. The bandages were wrapped on quickly while he was distracted with the tablets, and Newt hooked back around for casting fabric and antibiotics. The shot didn’t go down well with the poor thing, but Newt was quick enough that he avoided being teethed on again.

The numbing tablets seemed to be taking affect by the time Newt finished up the cast for his back leg, and his eyes were drooping from the sedatives snuck in as well. Newt smoothed a gentle hand down the dog’s flank with a sigh. “There we are. Much better, yes?”

“You’re very good at this.”

“Oh my goodness,” Newt choked out, whirling around to stare, wide-eyed, at the man still lurking in the corner of the room. “I forgot you were in here!”

“You told me to be quiet,” He responded gruffly, but his lips were quirked up. 

Newt placed a hand to his racing pulse and huffed. “I suppose I did. Thank you, then. Now,” He stood and reached for the bottles on his table. “From here, you’ll want to make sure he takes his antibiotics and at least two of these tablets per day—one in the morning, one at night. I’ll go ahead and give these to you as they’re relatively new. And you should ensure that he doesn’t move around too much. No hunting until his cast is off, and try to make him lie on his right side when you can to keep pressure off his rib.”

The man glanced over Newt as he took the bottles from him. “And payment?”

Hand waving dismissively, Newt turned his attention back to the dozing dog on his operating table. “The first bottles are free, and I suppose I can cut the cost for the casts since it was an emergency.”

“I meant,” He stepped closer, suddenly looming. “Who do I make the check out to, Mr. Scamander? Where is the owner of this establishment?”

Something in his voice raised Newt’s hackles, and he tensed as he looked over his shoulder at the man. It hit him then, like a slap to the face. A tentative sniff confirmed his suspicions. The scent of black coffee and ink, strong and unyeilding.

An alpha. 

Alone in a room with Newt, a clear omega even through his suppressants and blockers, asking too many pointed questions.

Hazel eyes narrowed, sharp. “He couldn’t be here today. He’s a busy man. You can make checks out to the clinic itself, he has everything set up for it. Anything else, perhaps about your _injured dog_ Mister…?”

“Graves,” He answered smoothly. Something seemed to have cleared in his eyes, however. He looked a bit chastened. “Percival Graves. And yes, how long will Antioch have to wear the casts?” It was a clear change of subject, not quite an apology, but close enough to one for an alpha that Newt found himself amused.

“About three months or so, depending on how much rest he’s able to get. His rib should heal faster as long as he’s not put through any strenuous exercise, though with the leg I doubt that will be a problem. Anything else, Mr. Graves?”

Percival ran a hand through his slicked back hair. “Thank you. For the pills. And I apologize for my...earlier behavior. I was a bit upset, and I work for law enforcement, so I have a few bad habits.”

Newt smiled and looked at Percival from beneath his lashes. “Just a few.”

A faint, very faint pink dusted across the man’s rather stunning cheekbones, and Newt found himself endeared. An alpha that listened, apologized, and admitted faults? Why, Percival Graves was a man unprecedented. 

“Yes, well, if you would?” He gestured towards his dog—Antioch, what a strange name—and Newt stepped aside to let him lift the pup into his arms with careful hands.

“Come back if anything changes.” Newt murmured as Percival swept past him with his dog in his arms. His chest felt warm.

Percival nudged the door open with his foot and strode into the foyer, pills rattling energetically in his pocket. Newt followed after him. But Percival paused by the front door, hesitant. Turning slightly, cobalt gazed after Newt, half-lidded. “I don’t suppose that I could back even if nothing changes. Perhaps for coffee?”

Tilting his head, Newt leaned his hip against his desk, crossed his arms, and bit back a bemused smile. “Maybe not coffee.” Lifting his chin, he ventured. “There’s a rally I’m rather partial to attending this weekend, however. Perhaps I’ll be able to meet you there?”

Percival’s lips pursed, contemplative. Newt stared at him steadily from beneath his curls, curious. A normal alpha would balk, wouldn’t even consider going to an ORA rally, even as popular as they were becoming.

“Maybe you will.” Percival said at length. He turned and banged out of the clinic. “I’ll fax you the check!”

Newt grinned, unabashed now that he was alone, and felt entirely too giddy for such a simple interaction. He had always assumed that he would die alone, a disgrace to his family for being mateless and heirless, but Percival Graves...Percival Graves was not like any other alpha he had met before. Newt hoped that they would meet again.

Perhaps he had finally found someone who could truly accept him.

The moment was broken by Pickett chittering in his ear to remind him that he had, in fact, been bitten and he was still bleeding all over the floors. With a sigh, Newt turned his back on thoughts of Percival Graves and got to work.


End file.
